


love never wanted me (but I took it anyway)

by uro_boros



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, but like brief mentions, mentions of a handjob, so don't get excited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uro_boros/pseuds/uro_boros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erwin wears thousand dollar suits, keeps multiple penthouse suites, probably listens to polka, and is rather fond of Levi. It's the third thing that makes him human.</p>
<p>Or, Erwin leaves his mark on the beating thing in Levi's breast and calls it home. Levi can't figure out why, since the penthouse is nicer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love never wanted me (but I took it anyway)

It takes a month to realize that Erwin hired a decorator for the place. Levi had assumed it to be his taste at first—monochromatic, sleek, with strong angles seemed to suit the Erwin who wore sharp, pressed suits, crisp from the starch of the launder’s, boasting a price tag worth half a year of Levi’s rent.

But Erwin was filled with incongruities, frustrating complexities that softened him; he liked Levi, after all, when he shouldn’t. Erwin was the thing of GQ covers and Forbes magazine. Levi chain-smoked and drank coffee to avoid sleeping, spent the gained time on his knees scrubbing at invisible dirt on the floor of his tiny, cold apartment to satisfy his neurosis.

Tucked into Erwin’s large closet, occupying a space behind all of Erwin’s thousand-dollar suits is a wooden chest with a painted front in soft florals was another one of Erwin’s incongruities.

"Ah," is all Erwin says, smiling slightly when he finds Levi kneeling in front of it, "it reminds me of home. The decorator didn’t like it, but I couldn’t stand to get rid of it."

(Erwin doesn’t talk of home much—he talks of prep school and university and a summer spent in the south of France, a winter spent in the Alps, a year spent sailing across the Pacific, the flights and fancies of the rich, but never of home; Levi doesn’t speak of his, either, and Erwin never asks, because the streets aren’t much of a place to grow up and home only leaves him feeling a bit raw inside).

"Decorator?" Levi arches an eyebrow.

Erwin laughs, bending at his waist to press a warm kiss under Levi’s ear. “Yes,” he breathes, the words nothing more than a murmur. “I believe he said, in a very angry tone of voice,  _you have the taste of an old man._  I didn’t realize it was intended as an insult.”

Levi snorts, but tilts his head obligingly to the press of Erwin’s mouth. “For someone so smart,” he says the moment before his mouth is captured in a kiss, “you’re really fucking stupid.”

"That’s why I keep you around," Erwin tells him warmly.

—-

"I prefer it here," Erwin says lowly, arching his back to kiss the pale tops of Levi’s shoulder. The weak water pressure of Levi’s apartment beats against them, squeezed tight as they are in the small shower, protesting their presence with splutters and spurts of cold. The pipes rattle—there’s a water-stain on the ceiling that’s been slowly driving Levi mad. "With you, here," Erwin adds. He traces a hand over Levi’s front, drawing absent-minded designs onto Levi’s skin (Levi knows better than to think they’re anything but perfectly calculated). 

"This place is a shit-hole."

Erwin’s hands pause, briefly, before continuing their slow descent down Levi’s front, one venturing off from the other to wrap around the base of Levi’s cock. “It reminds me of you,” says Erwin. 

Levi doesn’t know how it does. There’s a cursory attempt at furniture—mostly things he’s found online, on the street, been given to by sympathetic friends. It’s so clean that it’s stifling. It’s a morgue in the disguise of a dwelling; it smells like disinfectant, like alcohol and lemon, and under the oppressive scent of that, he can still feel the filth that’s clung to the place from the moment he began to rent it. 

"It reminds me of you," Erwin repeats, jacking his hand slowly. Levi lets his head fall back against Erwin’s shoulder, closing his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," he says.

(but he doesn’t miss Erwin’s low murmur of,  _it reminds me of home,_  for all his feigned indifference)


End file.
